M
iranda Finnegan steps into the café nervously looking around, was he there? She passes a man, suspicious smile on his face and she stops. Could that be him? She raise tbe question in her mind. She turns with a questioning look on her face and smiles asking, "Nathan? Nathan Paul?" The smile on his face widens, "Yes, Miranda, It is I," he stands and moves to hug her. "Wow, this is so strange, she laughs, I just knew some how, maybe by the grin on your face, that it was you, after all, people don't always look like a carbon copy of their photographs," she laughs. Well, he says, You were the only one who was looking around as if you were looking for someone so I suspected it was you, he laughs, but I was going to wait and see if you could pick me out of all the men here," he chuckles. "I had faith in your deductive abilities, you're a smart lady you know," he smiles and winks. Miranda blushes and laughs. "Why, Thank You Nathan," she smiles. "No Problem, he smiles, Facts, I'm just stating the facts," he says. "May I get you a coffee," he asks? "Oh I'll get it," she smiles and rushes to say feeling awkward having a man pay for her indulgent whims after having just relearned to support the expenses of her now sparse indulgences as well as her day to day necessities. "No I insist. This day is on me, he continues on. And as if not even wiling to accept any arguments from her, he rushes to add, "Very well then one coffee or rather a cappuccino instead?" He queries chuckling. "Even better," she smiles relaxing a little. First meetings are always so tense she thinks to herself, but this one was looking like it would be one well worth all of the nerves involved and more. She chooses a table for two and takes a seat, looking around while she awaits his return.
